


Chicken Noodle Soup

by Streetlamp_Sunset



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Canon Compliant, Cuddling & Snuggling, David Rose Can Cook, David Rose Loves Patrick Brewer, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Canon, Sickfic, Stevie Budd's love Language is gently insulting her friends, or at least Clint Brewer is teaching him to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:20:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26738770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Streetlamp_Sunset/pseuds/Streetlamp_Sunset
Summary: “You should’ve called me, Honey. I would’ve come home.” That was exactly why Patrick hadn’t. David deserved to have time away.“I know how much you were looking forward to this weekend,” Patrick said, “you shouldn’t have to take care of me.”“I missed you,” David admitted, “I would’ve rather been here.”Patrick gets sick, Stevie and David look after him.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Stevie Budd & Patrick Brewer
Comments: 12
Kudos: 150





	Chicken Noodle Soup

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TrueIllusion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrueIllusion/gifts).



> TrueIllusion prompted h/c or sickfic. I hope you like it!! 💖

Patrick woke to the feeling of a cool hand on his forehead, “Stevie, what’re you doing here?”

His whole body ached. Whatever relief he had gotten from the cold medicine and ibuprofen he'd taken before bed had worn off. Patrick groaned, shoving himself to a seated position before his motivation died down and the warm comfort of their bed pulled him back under. With David at a conference in Elm Valley for the weekend, he had to open the store. His head swam as soon as he was upright.

"Whoa, hey, Patrick," Stevie's hands closed around his arms, steadying him. Right, Stevie. Patrick slumped against her chest, the light from the blinds sending shockwaves of nausea rolling through his gut. "No, he's fine," Stevie said and Patrick realized her phone was laying open in the bed. The screensaver was an image of her and David passed out at odd angles on the couch. "He's just an idiot," Stevie's arm wrapped around him, hand smoothing up and down Patrick’s spine. 

"David," Patrick groaned, pressing his temple into her bony shoulder in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure building behind his eyes. He could feel each vertebrae in aching definition. The touch was soothing, but his skin hurt. He was too hot and too cold all at once and he really had to pee. 

"David, I'll call you back. Where do you think you're going?" Stevie asked as he swung his feet out of bed.

"Bathroom," Patrick eased himself to the edge of the mattress.

"Twyla called around when you didn't show up this morning," Stevie said, voice clipped. "David was worried."

"I'm sorry I scared him," Patrick held her gaze as long as he could manage, squeezing her shoulder lightly before hauling himself out of bed. He shuffled into the en suite with a pile of clean clothes. 

By the time he finished in the bathroom, the sheets had been changed. The expired flu medicine on the side table was switched out for a new bottle, a glass of ice water, and a warm mug of tea. Stevie sat cross legged on David's side of the bed, scrolling her phone.

Patrick collapsed face first into the turned down blankets with a groan, "thank you."

Stevie nudged him with her toe, "roll over, you need to take your drugs before you pass out."

Patrick propped himself up on his elbows. Stevie held the pills against his mouth, followed by the rim of a glass and lip of a medicine cap. He swallowed obediently then turned to curl up on his side. Patrick shivered, even in David's thick wool socks his toes were freezing. 

Stevie sighed, scooting down the bed and wrapping herself around him. 

“You’re gonna get sick,” he protested weakly.

“I ate a lot of dirt as a kid, I’ll be fine,” her nails scraped over his scalp until his eyes fell closed.

"Love you," Patrick mumbled into the pillow.

"You're so fucking stubborn," Stevie nudged the back of his thigh with her knee, “why didn’t you call me?”

He shrugged, "didn't wanna bother you."

"Now he doesn’t want to bother me," he could hear the eye roll in her voice, "you called me last week because there was a mouse in the garage, Patrick."

Patrick snorted, letting out a weak laugh. Stevie laced their fingers together. 

"David will be home soon," she squeezed his hand lightly, "get some rest."

Patrick knew David was there before he opened his eyes. Stevie curled closer in her sleep, wrapping around anything near her, but David sprawled. There was a weight on Patrick’s shoulder, dark curls in the corner of his vision, long limbs stretched over him.

“David?” Patrick shook him gently. David grumbled, burrowing back into his pillow before his thoughts caught up to him. 

“Patrick,” he bolted upright, hands flitting over the blanket on Patrick’s chest, “how are you? Feeling any better?”

Patrick sat up, shifting experimentally, “a little, yeah.” He didn’t feel like he had a fever and the ache in his bones had dissipated for the moment. “Where’s Stevie?”

“Ransacking our kitchen,” David pulled Patrick to lean against his chest. Patrick sighed, melting into his arms. “You should’ve called me, Honey. I would’ve come home.” That was exactly why Patrick hadn’t. David deserved to have time away.

“I know how much you were looking forward to this weekend,” Patrick said, “you shouldn’t have to take care of me.”

“I missed you,” David admitted, “I would’ve rather been here.” He let out a sigh, breath shuddering the way it did when he was holding in too much stress, “I want to take care of you, Patrick.”

“Oh.”

“Mmm,” David hummed in acknowledgement, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“I missed you too,” Patrick said against his shoulder. He slid a hand under the hem of David’s t-shirt, seeking the comfort of his skin as he drifted between sleep and waking. Patrick’s stomach grumbled and he groaned, curling closer to David. The thought of trying to keep food down was nauseating.

“When was the last time you ate something?”

Patrick shrugged, “I had tea this morning and a banana sometime last night.”

“There’s chicken noodle soup,” David offered, running a hand over Patrick's back. He had been learning how to cook now that he had access to an actual kitchen. Clint was thrilled to have a son who was interested in learning. “It’s your dad’s recipe, I picked up the ingredients on my way home and Stevie said she’d keep an eye on things until you woke up.”

“That sounds doable,” Patrick said. 

“You actually have to get out of bed, Patrick,” David said, making no effort to move himself.

“One more minute,” Patrick yawned, shifting closer, “I love you, I’m really glad you came home, David.”

“I love you too, Honey. There’s nowhere I’d rather be,” David’s hand paused on Patrick’s back, “except maybe eating some of that soup.”

Patrick laughed against his chest, “okay, David.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very, very much for reading!!  
> ❤️ Sunset


End file.
